


The Best of Intentions

by lady_needless_litany



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: A LOT of hyperbole, Katsuki Yuuri in Russia, M/M, Post-Canon, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 09:04:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16472630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_needless_litany/pseuds/lady_needless_litany
Summary: In which Victor says he's going to be super organised, but runs out of time, has a melt-down, and ends up crying over hot glue guns and sequins, until Yuuri and Yuri come to the rescue.





	The Best of Intentions

**Author's Note:**

> Written for YOI Spooky Week 2018. Day 4: Halloween/Costume Party.

**JANUARY 1ST**   
  
New Year's Eve had been...unforgiving.   
  
In the noon light accompanying their pitiful brunch (their willpower had only extended as far as dragging themselves to the fridge to reheat two-day-old leftovers), the four rounds of Jäegarbombs didn't look like such a good idea. Nor did the bottle of champagne they'd cracked open just before midnight. Nor did the whiskey that had followed. Mila had hosted and Yuuri had initially assumed that it would be relatively low-key, but apparently not; it seemed that her and Georgi had bought enough alcohol to stock a bar. Despite the age gap between the pair, they'd become firm friends since Yuuri had known them.   
  
Secretly, Yuuri was just relieved that he hadn't done anything he now regretted. The only comfort was that Mila and Georgi – their companions for the evening, alongside a disapproving Yakov and a mortified Yurio – would be feeling considerably worse off.   
  
Across the table from him, Victor sighed dramatically and rubbed his forehead. "I hate New Year's."   
  
It took Yuuri's aching brain a moment to process that statement. Then he snorted indelicately. "You seemed to be enjoying it last night. Or this morning, rather."   
  
"That was last night," he whined, without any real feeling. "Right now, I hate it."   
  
Yuuri, not particularly willing to expend any more focus on verbal communication, just shrugged, as if to say:  _ sure, that's fair. _   
  
"See," Victor said, stabbing the air with his fork. "Halloween is the best holiday. Halloween doesn't do this to you."   
  
"Shhh," Yuuri hushed him placatingly, if only for the sake of his throbbing headache. "I need more water. D'you want any?"   
  
Passing his glass across the table, Victor smiled at him like he was an angel descending from heaven. "Yuuri, I love you for so many reasons.”   


  
**SEPTEMBER 15TH**   
  
"Yuuri!" Victor bounced into the room. "Georgi's hosting a Halloween party!"   
  
Yuuri looked up from the bubbling pot of soup on the stove. "Really?"   
  
"Yeah. It's a Saturday this year, right?"   
  
Yuuri made an affirmative noise. "Are we going?"   
  
"Do you want to go?" Victor asked, not without a touch of fretfulness. "It's just a few people. At that bar down the road."   
  
Victor's answer was obviously going to be a yes. Yuuri wasn’t as much of a social butterfly as his boyfriend, but why not?   
  
"Sure," Yuuri replied. "But no alcohol."   
  
"What? Why not?" Victor exclaimed.   
  
"I mean, I'm not going to stop you, but... remember New Year's? Yakov's not going to be happy if we have a repeat of that. Can't risk training."   
  
Victor accepted his point. "But we have to wear costumes. Georgi said so in his text."   
  
Yuuri was rather at a loss for words. He hadn't worn a costume – off the ice, at least – since his first year in Detroit. On of Phichit’s less stellar ideas, naturally. "I-"   
  
"Wait, can I do your costume?" Victor widened his eyes. "Please?"   
  
Yuuri laughed. "Okay. Just don't do anything crazy."

  
**OCTOBER 1ST**   
  
Yuuri thought that Victor seemed unusually chipper that morning; yes, the man was almost always insanely energetic, but he seemed suspiciously excited. He was practically beaming into his cereal. Yuuri didn't interfere – he couldn't bring himself to put even the slightest dent in his boyfriend's mood. 

“You’re happy this morning,” he observed eventually.

Victor looked at him, smile practically radiant. “It’s October! Almost Halloween!”  
  
He laughed. "Have you decided on costumes yet?"   
  
"No. I haven't decided whether or not we should match yet."   
  
"It's okay," Yuuri reassured him. "You've still got plenty of time."   


  
**OCTOBER 27TH**

Yuuri was taking a short rinkside break, scrolling through his social media, when Yurio stopped in front of him. "Are you and the idiot going to Georgi's Halloween thing?"  
  
"Isn't everyone?" Yuuri jerked his chin in a wide gesture that indicate everyone at the rink.   
  
"Yeah. Georgi, Mila, you. A couple of others – Georgi’s friends.”   
  
Yuuri was still trying to work out Yurio's purpose. "Why?"   
  
Yurio snorted. "I'm invited. But I don't want to go if it's just a bunch of old losers."   
  
Yuuri was still trying to compose a response to that as Yurio turned and skated back over to Yakov. He brought it up again later, confused to find that Yurio was now _extremely_ insistent that he would be attending.   
  
"I thought you weren't going,” Yuuri protested weakly, utterly perplexed.   
  
Yurio’s response was belligerent. "Yeah, but Yakov told me not to go."   


  
**OCTOBER 31ST**   
  
Yuuri eased the door shut behind him, one hand occupied by shopping bags – a week's worth of groceries, more or less. He found the apartment oddly quiet: usually, Victor would yell out a greeting, no matter where he was in the apartment. And he knew that Victor couldn't be out, because his coat and shoes were in their standard places.   
  
Frowning, he dumped the supplies in the kitchen and walked through to their bedroom.

He found Victor there, a pile of fabric and a hot glue gun on his lap, in floods of tears. Instantly, he guessed the source of Victor’s frustration – the costumes he’d been going on about for months. At least it was nothing terribly serious.

“Sorry, Yuuri,” Victor said thickly, trying to withhold sizeable hiccups. “I’m being stupid.”

He sat next to Victor, wrapping an arm around his partner’s shoulder and ruffling his hair. “Hey, it’s okay. Don’t worry.”

“I know. But…”

He was interrupted by a banging on the door.

They looked at each other, minds in sync. “Yurio,” they said in unison. The only downside of their apartment was that Yakov and Lilia – and Yuri, by extension – lived just around the corner.

“I’ll get it,” Yuuri said. “Be back in a minute.”

He stood and went to the door, hoping he’d get there before Yurio managed to batter the door down. He swung the door open, only to hurriedly step out of the way as Yurio shouldered his way through the doorway.

“Yakov won’t drive me to Georgi’s,” Yurio complained, by way of explanation. “It’s too far to walk.”

Yuuri, by now used to Yurio’s abrupt manner, just nodded. “Okay. We’re leaving at seven.”

“Great.”

Yurio turned to leave, until an idea sparked inside Yuuri’s brain and he reached out to stop him. “Actually,” Yuuri said. “How good are you at costume design?”

Yurio was instantly suspicious. “Why?”

“Vitya’s having a crisis.”

He led Yurio into their bedroom. Victor hadn’t moved, though his tears had abated and his breathing had levelled.

Yurio took one look at the mess and decided that he was taking over – Victor clearly wasn’t going to pull it off. "Move over, idiot," he said. "Your hot-glue-gunning technique is crap."

 

* * *

 

They were half an hour late, which Yuuri considered a success, all things told.

Him and Victor had ended up in complimentary vampire outfits – if Victor had had his way, there would’ve been more sequins, but they certainly looked the part. Yurio, meanwhile, had simply added a pair of flashing demon horns to his usual jeans-and-hoodies ensemble.

It did cross Yuuri’s mind that it wasn’t a massively appropriate thing for Yurio to be invited to, but he dismissed the thought as soon as he recalled the numerous other inappropriate gatherings Yurio had been party to. New Year’s, if nothing else. He watched Yurio wander off into the crowd.And it was, without doubt, a crowd: it turned out that ‘a couple of others’ was more like fifty. It was certainly a relief that Georgi had picked a large venue.  
Gently nudging him out of his train of thought, Victor took his hand and tugged him into the fray. “Come on, Dracula,” he said, eyes twinkling. “Let’s go.”


End file.
